On Monday night we had one of my favorite things for dinner: Rotisserie chicken from Smith's.
Perfectly done every time, on time. Always moist. No work for me. $3.99, since I had a coupon. What's not to love?
Then there's Lydia.
She eyed the carcass on where it sat on a cutting board on the kitchen table, having a staring contest with something without eyes as only she could do.
The rest of the family was busily dishing out chicken, milk, peas and carrots, baked potatoes when, with a sneer, Lydia ventured, "What kind of animal is that?"
We had a little chat about chicken and where it comes from. Should this be hard? Her grandpa has a large turkey farm. She has seen poultry in "the wild" - much closer than most people ever see. Maybe that adds to the problem.
We kept eating and I noticed she was still eyeing the bird suspiciously. This time she had zeroed in on a wing. A rather skinny, roasted wing.
"Eww mom. It has a TAIL!"
Just eat your potato and quit examining our meat, you crazy vegetarian!